


Press Start

by Muucifer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Slave John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muucifer/pseuds/Muucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a month. They were still walking on eggshells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Press Start

It’d been about a month since John was bought. A month that seemed simultaneously much too short and far too long. He had a roof over his head, clothes, food, and anything else his heart desired. He wasn’t unhappy, of course not. In fact, when his Dad died, he didn’t think he’d ever be this happy. Bro was super nice and Dave was really cool when he was around! But still, there was something missing. No matter what he did it always felt like Bro was treading around him, careful to not push too hard or say the wrong thing.

Watching himself get handled with such care was a bit frustrating. Bro was never like that with Dave, that much was obvious. John just wanted them to be _normal_ around him. He didn’t want any special treatment just because Bro bought him. Bro owned him, but aside from the tattoo and the collar when they went out, it was a thought that was easily pushed down. Bro could make him do anything. At the very least, John had expected Bro to make him clean, yet when they walked through the door and Bro took the collar off, he’d merely said to make himself at home.

Since then, nothing. Every time he tried to clean Bro waved him off, every time he tried to cook Bro ordered in, and every time he tried to be helpful he was shooed away. In all honestly, he felt like dead weight, just someone else Bro had to support. Plus the burden of his payment, which was no small thing. John _knew_ he was expensive. That was why no one had bought him, why he sat in a cage for nearly two months. Now that he was here though it all seemed unreal. Like he’d wake up and this would all just be an elaborate dream.

Currently, in the other room, Bro was doing work on the computer, preparing orders for shipment and messaging clients. Dave had gone out earlier in the day, claiming he wouldn’t be back until later in the night. John had, for the most part, spent his afternoon organizing the kitchen. Bro wasn’t paying him any attention, so he could get away with cleaning up a little. Swords were stacked on the table and he had the cuts on his fingers to show for it. The rag he’d been using was black with dust from the unused cupboards and stray pieces of fabric from the others. At his request Bro had moved all of his smuppets to condensed part of the house, only moving them to do shoots or set a trap.

As he balanced on his knees, teetering on the edge of the counter, there was a quiet groan from the other room. John tilted his head, but when no other noise came, he turned back to cleaning. Moments later Bro appeared just to his left, nearly eyelevel with him despite John’s counter advantage. Startled, he yelped, and his knee slipped off the counter. His body tumbled after it, only to be caught lightly by Bro’s arms. Solid muscles flex under his weight, easily like he’s nothing at all. The pound of his heart beats through his ears and drums against his chest, constricting his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

Then Bro’s hands are on his face and the Texan is asking him if he’s okay. John chokes around the lump in his throat, spluttering out a gasp of air and nodding. Bro chances him with a small smile, curling his hand around John’s jaw and giving it a quick squeeze. There’s an awkward shuffle where Bro tries to shift John and set him down, resulting in John stumbling to his feet and smooshing his face into Bro’s abs when his socks slide across the linoleum. He giggles, pressing his palms into Bro’s side and pushing himself back. A half smile lingers on Bro’s face, breaking into a grin when he reaches up to ruffle the young teen’s hair and John squeaks at him.

They stand together in the kitchen, John fiddling with his hair uselessly trying to flatten it and Bro watching him with lazy interest. The space between them is practically nonexistent, but neither of them attempt to move back or leave. Rather, Bro reaches up to rest his palms, hot and leatherclad, against John’s sides where his shirt has ridden up and expose a thin sliver of pale skin. John shudders, hastily looking down to avoid Bro seeing the flush rising on his cheeks.

He wasn’t _stupid_.

He was a _sex_ slave. Of course Bro would be interested. However, when Bro’s hands don’t move any more than that, John finds himself relaxing down into the touch. It’s not unpleasant by any means, but John can’t help but feel that it’s a good display of their relationship. They’re plenty large enough, Bro could wrap his fingers around him and throw him about like a doll.

Despite these thoughts, he’s still shocked when suddenly the grip tightens and Bro’s hoisted him up. He’s in the air for just a second, then he’s bouncing on the cushions of the couch. He waits for Bro to grab his clothes, eyes squeezed shut and breath still. It never comes. There’s a weight to his side where Bro sits down, and for a moment he worries that Bro’s going to do something even weirder. But Bro leans back and then snatches John’s waist and pulls him back as well. He tucks John into his side, smoothing down the rumpled shirt briefly before snaking his fingers into John’s hair and petting it gently.

Rather than be demeaning, it’s soothing. He shifts through the dark strands, carefully brushing them away from John’s face and rubbing the sensitive skin hidden there. John finds himself leaning into the touch, letting himself snuggle into the hold. A sense of comfort sinks into his bones, its presence radiant. Above him, Bro doesn’t move an inch. There’s no pressure for John to do anything, there never was. Bro presses his lips to the mop of black locks on top of John’s head. He lingers, nuzzling it softly.

His voice is a murmur when he finally asks John if he is alright. John contemplates his answer. But, yeah. Yeah he is. He’s happy and safe and warm. Even if there’s a collar with Bro’s name on it that he has to wear and even if there are tattoos he never wanted on his body, he’s happy. Bro’s there with him and Bro isn’t going to hurt him, he isn’t like that. At ease, John shimmies until he’s facing Bro. His arms loop around Bro’s neck, orange eyes widening just the slightest in surprise when John lifts himself up and his lips find Bro’s slightly stubbled cheek. They move away, and John’s nose takes its place, this time at Bro’s jaw. He nudges him lightly, waiting. Bro turns into him, kissing his nose tenderly in response.

John sits back, smile securely affixed to his face.

It’s a start, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually going to be a full-blown story eventually, but someone was nice enough to request it from me when i posted [this pic of it](http://lucifer-draws.tumblr.com/post/76448519788/tiny-slave-john-with-a-little-babyfat-belly/)
> 
> Ahhh Im excited more people should be that nice uwu


End file.
